


Spotlight

by badluckvixen13 (alteringviews)



Series: 1 Million for Black Hermione [40]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Black Hermione Granger, Dancing, F/M, Office
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:29:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
Summary: Ron is possessive, insecure and oppressive and Hermione keeps hoping that he'll realize that she's not the cheating type.It can only get worse when an old flame appears in Hermione's life, at Hermione's job, in Hermione's department.Did she mention that wasn't she cheating type either?





	Spotlight

**Author's Note:**

> This story was partially inspired by that Yule Ball moment when Ron is clearly jealous that Hermione has a better date than him (take that any way you'd like). Also, SS Viktory is the best.

She was alone in her condo, relaxing against the back of her lavish tub. The jets were going at full blast simultaneously massaging her and keeping the water at a nice temperature. It had been the second thing she’d splurged on when she’d bought the place. The first, of course, had been the large room filled with books and a reading couch. Hermione chuckled thinking of Harry’s reaction when he’d come to the housewarming.

 _Only you would spend that much money on an in-house library,_ he’d said squeezing her tight. _I’m glad that the money hasn’t made you._

Let it never be said that listening to a _Player’s Club_ allusion in Harry’s British accent wasn’t comedy gold. She hit the button to turn up the heated jets and sighed as the heat sunk into her brown skin. The water was milky with the new bubble bath she’d picked up and if she wasn’t fully aware that it wasn’t an instant thing, she would have sworn that it had already made her skin as soft as the day she was born.

Her hair twisted up and out of the way of the frothy bubbles. She didn’t usually indulge in a bubble, jacuzzi bath, but the day had warranted it and the night of fun she’d planned.

Ron was off with Harry she guessed and she had plans with her friends from the company since he’d ditched her at the last minute. She tapped her panel to answer the incoming call once the bluetooth panel lit up.

“Hello Rachel,” she said calmly. “I assume this means you’ve reached a decision?”

“Yes I have!” the woman cheered over the line. “I think you’ll like it. Dancy, good drinks, great DJ, cute bartenders…”

“Anything else I should know?”

“We’ll be there to steal you around 10:30 and there’s a BDSM club attached to it.”

Hermione swallowed, the mention of it sending a shock through her and memories flashing behind her eyelids. It had been a long time since she’d heard the term. Not since college, she was sure from the smirking mouth of an upperclassman.

_Care to try it out?_

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Not that you have to do anything, but just a heads up if that freaks you out, or Ron, I know how he can be.”

She hummed, “I haven’t heard from him since he cancelled on me.”

“That’s odd.”

It was considering that a large part of their relationship revolved around Ron’s own brand of _control_. He wasn’t exactly controlling in the conventional way, but as an athlete and always traveling for Britain he always seemed hyper aware of her, hyper vigilant about her whereabouts all the time. She’d caught him looking through her phone once, at least he’d been trying to, and that hadn’t ended well considering how much she valued her privacy.

He’d asked questions about things he’d found on her bookshelf, why they weren’t living together yet, and a million other questions that solidified her resolution that they weren’t ready to move to the next stage of their relationship yet.

He didn’t _trust_ her, so there was no way she would trust him with her space and herself unconditionally.

“It is,” she said finally. “He’s been getting worse recently since he came to visit me at work and met Viktor.”

“Ooh, the hot Russian guy?”

Hermione laughed, “He’s Bulgarian, Rach’, not Russian and his name is Viktor.”

“He’s probably nervous. It’s not like Ron’s a real looker.”

“I think he’s handsome in his own right,” she said. She could practically hear Rachel rolling her eyes.

They had very different types in men. She liked conversation and fun. Ron had at least had the fun in spades and conversation when it suited him. Their romance wasn’t one that would have suited Rachel. It had been slow, gentle, almost casual in pace. Rachel was a woman of passion and sparks. She always had been.

“You’re so loyal. Didn’t you two know each other before? I heard he was excited to see you.”

Hermione smiled thinking back to the day he’d been shown to their section of the universe. Viktor had been a surprise, a pleasant one, smiling at her, greeting her warmly. They’d lost contact when he’d had to return home beyond their weak social media ties. He’d been so busy and her career was taking off that she’d all but forgotten about it and then he wandered into her team meeting and brought with him so many memories she couldn’t do anything but smile and hug him.

“Yeah, we did.”

Viktor had been the hot upper classman who’d actually bothered to talk to her in his 400-level classes while they were in college. They’d had a bit of a romance, lots of hot passionate sex, and late nights at clubs. He’d been her first everything and they’d parted as easily as they’d come together when they’d graduated. There were things back home he needed to deal with, battles he had to fight, and he hadn’t said wait for him. He’d actually been very insistent that she didn’t.

_If is meant to be, will be. Do not put stop on life for me._

Hermione had, perhaps, been too emotionally young, stunted, hurt, or confused to understand what he meant when he said those things and held her so tenderly. If he loved her, if he wanted her, he would have said wait, would have said so, would have held onto her as tightly as she wanted to hold on to him. He hadn’t and she’d taken it that they didn’t mean as much to him as they’d meant to her.

Looking back, she should have asked the question, but she had only nodded and clung to her books again. Books were safer, books didn’t say goodbye. She had all the power to keep or discard a book. The same was true of a career, a job-- people not so much.

People left, like Viktor.

People died, like her parents.

People simply stopped coming around.

They’d shared that night together and parted at the airport, a warm kiss to her forehead and as soon as she couldn’t see him any longer, she got in her car and turned that part of her brain off. She threw herself into her work, becoming a highly celebrated and respected project manager for a multi-billion dollar firm. She was making money hand over fist, securing contracts, fame, prestige, everything she’d never had, even before her parents had died in her freshman year.

She and Ron had started dating all of a year ago, though they knew each other since her freshman year through Harry. There was nothing spectacular about their relationship. They more or less settled into the normal stage of it before she’d had her first major project. At the time, he’d been accepted onto the team he wanted to play for, but had been on the bench pretty much the entire season while she was in every business magazine across the world for the revitalization of Beijing.

Then, he’d changed.  

He was possessive, a little clingy and controlling. Sure, he’d had those streaks before, along with an ego that got in the way of nearly everything, and she’d called him on it all, but she had her own issues as well (her glaring separation anxiety masquerading as being busy) so she gave him a chance to fix it. They’d had rows about it and tried to resolve it but things weren’t looking any better, especially now that she’d been promoted and he’d only played in one game. She wanted to go out and celebrate and he’d ruined the entire night with his attitude. They were supposed to be talking that night after that particular row that had spilled across weeks, but he’d bailed on her the night before. Ron never really liked to talk about their relationship if it wasn’t something that he was upset about.

She shook her head, it wasn’t time to think about that. It was time to end the call with Rachel, finish her bath and dress for a night out with her girls. So she ended the call with Rachel, finished bathing and let the tub drain while she dried off and spread shea butter over her brown skin watching the small flecks of gold spread over her skin adding to her skin’s natural glow.  It had been about a year since she’d had to buy another pot of it since Ron had preferred home dates or simple dinner dates to going out the way she was used to. It was a compromise she was willing to make even if sometimes she still just turned on dance music, dressed up and went absolutely nowhere just because she wanted to dance and look damn good while doing so.

She decided on the hot red romper she’d picked up a while ago. It was a halter top with a built in corset top to support her breasts. She’d had it tailored with an athletic lining to keep her cool like the rest of her club clothes as she didn’t go to clubs to stand around and be pretty-- she went to dance.  When the bell sounded, she grabbed her clutch, pet Crookshanks and headed down to the elevator.

“Hot Tamale!” Rachel greeted, the rest of the girls catcalling as she sauntered towards them in her platform stilettos.

“Get that fine ass in this car! It’s time for free drinks!”

Hermione only laughed and followed them out towards the SUV they were taking, Rachel was the designated driver for the night. They arrived at Rapture about ten minutes later and were passed through the line by the bouncer and some VIP who really appreciated Violet’s assets.

He led them towards the bar talking about his friends that were supposed to be around, but Hermione wasn’t paying attention as Rachel hailed the bartender for their first round of drink. The music was better than good and she hoped that it would stay that way through the night. The first drink of the night was something strong and fruity in a martini glass that they finished quickly before heading to the dancefloor.

She’s sure someone is try to get her attention, but it isn’t anyone she came with so she doesn’t bother to heed it.  Somewhere in between rapture and the bass, she lost herself. It feels like freedom and for a while everything is perfect. Her problems are miles away and it’s only the music that has any meaning in the universe. It feels a bit like college when she was truly her own private dancer in the center of nearly every party on campus, there to start the party and there to the end as well.

_I wanna last wanna last forever… I wanna dance dance dance all night._

“Cutting loose are you?” Rachel as as she neared the bar, already working up a sweat and the bartender slid their drinks forward.

“It’s been way too long since I’ve been out. I love to dance,” she explained. “But Ron doesn’t really believe in going out so I haven’t had the chance to do it as much as I--”

Her clutch vibrated and she frowned, opening it to see Ron’s face on screen. She slid the end call icon across the screen and opted to send a text message.

_In a club, will call back later._

Her phone lit up again with another call as soon as she’d sent the message. She ended the call and grabbed her drinks.

“Hey ladies, free drinks for the night if you take a group picture and check-in on Facebook.”

Rachel cheered and whipped out her phone as it had the best resolution before they pressed in close for him to take the picture. She shared it across their phones and they all checked in on Facebook, with the picture and tagged everyone in it. The bartender grinned and handed over neon bracelets with the club’s name and insignia for them to put on.

Hermione’s phone rang again and she ended the call.

“Ron?” Rachel asked as the song changed and she turned her phone on mute. Hermione tossed back her second drink and headed back to the dancefloor.

_Hello, hello, baby, you called I can’t hear a thing..._

Rachel watched her with interest. She would have never guessed that Hermione had the sort of sensual grace that made people stare as she danced. She didn’t think hermione was a particular party goer either otherwise she would have told her that they try and go out at least once a week to party, especially if they won a big account. She turned back and looked up to see someone else watching Hermione, an almost whimsical smile on his lips and a heat in his eyes that didn’t match.

It was Viktor.

_Stop calling. Stop calling. I don’t want to think anymore. I left my head and my heart on the dancefloor._

Rachel and Violet cheered her on, even though they were pretty sure that the woman couldn’t hear her, moving to the DJ’s song. It was another ten or twenty minutes before she came back to the bar to grab a drink, Rachel and the rest of the girls when she heard his voice.

“You still dance like freedom.”

She looked up to see Viktor standing there with a tumbler of alcohol in his hand. She gasped seeing him there, looking as sinfully good as he always did. The clothes are different than the last time she’d seen him in a club, but she remembered.

 _Red_ , she thought looking at his shirt. _Red_ was his favorite color.

“Is good, remember how much you loved it.”

“Viktor,” she greeted warmly, taking her next shot in hand.

“Apple pie?”

She nodded, “You remembered.”

“Of course, mila,” he said taking a drink. “Boyfriend isn’t here, yet?”

“He isn’t coming,” she said. “He had plans and he wasn’t invited.”

“Ah, Women’s Night Out, yes?”

“Da,” she said easily and he smiled.

“Enjoy your night, Hermione,” he said with a slight bow and a kiss to her hand before turning to meet up with the group he’d come with.

She recognized most of them from college and it didn’t take long for them to wave excitedly, come over to tell her that they should do lunch some time and wish her a good night as they were headed deeper into the club. She could bet, to the the BDSM side of it.

_When you gonna stop breaking my heart? I don’t want to be another one…_

She grinned, she loved this song and before she even noticed it, her feet were leading her back into the crowd of bodies, moving in time with the song. It was the first song she heard at her first college party when she’d discovered how easy and how wonderful it was to lose yourself in the large crowd. And she was lost, so lost in fact that she didn’t notice the redhead who’d come in.

“Ron?” Rachel asked seeing him fighting his way towards her and the bar.

“Rachel,” he greeted. “Where’s Hermione? I’ve been trying to call her.”

_Hey, are you mamma mia?_

Rachel pointed towards the dance floor and his jaw dropped. Because the song was a club song that was probably too fast for the heels she was wearing and every movement seemed to be putting her on display as some sort of sex symbol. He was pretty sure that he’d never seen Hermione quite like that.

For one, her hair was down. She never wore her hair down, he never knew it was so long, hands wandering taking a carnal pleasure in moving, but she wasn’t dancing with anyone, didn’t even seem to be aware of anyone either no matter how sexual she was. He moved through the crowd towards her to grab her arm and she turned.

“I have a boyfriend and I'm not interested,” she said before even looking at him and then startling. “Ron?

“I’ve been trying to call you.”

“Yes and I told you I was busy,” she said, gesturing to the strobe lights. “In a club?”

“You didn’t tell me you were going out.”

“I thought you were with Harry and why would I?”Hermione tugged, but he didn’t let go. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“You wouldn’t pick up your phone,” Ron said. “And I saw you were here on facebook.”

She gawked at him, “Are you serious Ron? What is your problem?!”

“I thought you wanted to talk,” he tried.

“Yeah, but then you _cancelled_ on me remember? Did you expect me to wait around until after you were done hanging out with Harry? In my condo? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Your boyfriend!”

“Then act like,” she said. “Not like a _stalker_ , I said I would call you didn’t I?”

“Well, how can I trust that with you dressed like that and _dancing_ like that?”

Hermione curled her fist glaring at him, “Perhaps if you took me out you wouldn’t have to be so freaked out about my _club_ appropriate clothing. And I have never given you any reason not to trust me.”

“Except going to random clubs without telling me.”

She threw up her hands, “You are _impossible,_ Ronald. You cancelled on me--”

“Not so you could go out--”

“What--”

“Behind my back--”

“Behind your back?!” She yelled, pulling away from him, freeing herself. “You cancelled on _me._ Don’t be upset because I have a _life_ outside of you! I’m a person, damn it!”

He flushed glaring at her.

“You are being a child,” Hermione hissed. “And I am not putting up with it. It is not my job to be available whenever you _deign_ to remember that this is a relationship and you should put some work into it.”

Ron opened his mouth, but then she’d turned to head back to the bar and he followed after her.

“Everything alright?” Rachel asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said sweetly as he came up to them. “Ron was just heading home. He just wanted to check on me.”

Ron’s shoulder twitched, but her glare shut off any protests before gave her a meaningful look and turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a deep breath. “That he’s so rude.”

“He came here after seeing that check in, didn’t he?”

Hermione sighed and ordered a shot of straight tequila and tossed it back before heading back to the dance floor at the sound “Getting Over You”. If she wasn’t lost before, then she was definitely lost now. By the time they were ready to go, Hermione was all but ready to sleep in the back of the car. They drove to her condo, waved her goodnight, and promised to talk later. She pulled off her shoes in the elevator and walked into her condo. She left her cell phone on silent and wiped the make-up from her face, took a shower and crawled into bed, tired, pleasurably sore, and happy.


End file.
